Seville
by VexVulpes
Summary: A chance crossing of paths leads to Haibara falling into the hands of Gin and Vodka. Eventual GinSherry. Rated T because come on, this is Detective Conan.


She awoke to a loud bang.

Grey eyes wearily parted, their owner sitting up with a groan and peering out the window of a yellow Beetle. It was too dark to see what was going on out there and the muffled sounds of music and footsteps and voices was all she could hear…

Despite her groggy state, she knew what she had heard. But the same state made her silently exit the Beetle, wanting to be sure of things before she called the police.

She didn't expect him.

The world started spinning before going black.

xXx

The job had been ridiculously easy, much to Gin's disappointment. The target had come down to find the wallet he's stolen earlier and with the noise of the party in the building above, no one had heard the gunshot. By the time the body (he'd forgotten the name the second the bullet had pierced the head, typical him) was found and the police were called, he and Vodka would be long gone. On the other side of Beika, if his calculations were right.

Surely he had time for a smoke before he departed. After all, the party was going to last an hour longer and Vodka was keeping watch for him.

The blonde leaned against a wall, lighting up and blowing smoke into the dim lighting of the parking garage. Lately, with the death of Shuichi Akai and the FBI's departure, things had gotten slow. Most of the missions Ano Kata sent him out to tend to were things more fit to newer crows, not an assassin of his rank and skill.

And things were especially slow since Sherry's death.

He glanced at the paling corpse with green eyes, though he wasn't seeing it (he would wonder what its name had once been, but there'd be no point). No, his mind was elsewhere, on a roof with pure snow and a woman in ill fitting overalls tainting such purity with crimson. Normally, his memory was not a good thing… but it was a different story when Sherry was concerned. If Sherry was in it, the memory was suddenly crystal clear and he could remember every detail.

Vermouth had sworn the traitor was dead. She had called the second the train had pulled into the station and reported that Sherry had been on the car that had exploded, adding that Bourbon was willing to act as witness to her statement. And for a second… something had hurt. A dull ache that he had been sure to hide from Vodka. All the talk of killing Sherry with his own hands, of hunting her down and executing her like the rat she was… he'd never been sure if he could deal the killing shot. Yet now she was dead and at Vermouth's hands, at that.

Something seemed off though. Vermouth had ended her call abruptly, with a gasp he had just managed to hear. And it was that odd behavior that had hinted that maybe, just maybe, things weren't as they seemed.

He tossed the cigarette into the blood, knowing no prints would be left since he was wearing gloves and turned to leave, freezing in place as he came face to face with a small child. Time seemed to freeze as his mind began to race. Where had this child come from, for starters? He'd made sure the area was empty before going in for the kill. And Vodka had been keeping watch and would have messaged him.

Secondly, how much had this child seen? The shooting? Him luring the target into the shadows? Just the corpse? There was no telling how long he had been silently watched…

Finally, why did this little girl remind him of Sherry?

The child was staring with wide eyes, her small frame shaking in obvious terror. At least she had the common sense to be terrified. After all, she had witnessed him near a corpse. Maybe more, depending on how long she had been there. If he left her alive, she could easily report what she had seen to the police. Give them an accurate description of his physical appearance. He'd never be able to kill again and Ano Kata could easily have him killed. Unlike that snake Vermouth, he was not the boss' favorite.

He slowly reached for the pocket with his gun when the phone in his jacket pocket buzzed frantically. It could only be one person and a quick glance at the caller ID confirmed that.

Vodka. Someone was coming. They needed to leave now.

His attention was immediately grabbed by an ugly sounding fit of coughing, the assassin realizing for the first time that the girl was wearing a face mask and looked almost as pale as the corpse. Ah, now he had remembered. There was a hospital nearby. Perhaps this child had come with her parents to get treatment for her illness. This became more probable as she stumbled and collapsed to the floor.

He didn't have time to shoot her. The gunshot would be noticed now anyway if someone was coming. But leaving her wasn't an option either. She'd seen too much to be ignored.

Then time for a third option.

He quickly picked up the barely conscious child before running towards where the Porsche was hidden, barking at Vodka to drive before the broader man could ask why his superior suddenly had a child with him. They could easily drive out of town and kill her in a secluded area. He had this under control.

By the time the police arrived, it was like they had never been there.


End file.
